


Scarface

by lostintheclouds321



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Adoption, Amnesia, Dead Dursleys, Fire, Gen, Guardian Severus Snape, Hermione Granger is a Good Friend, Orphanage, POV Hermione Granger, Severitus | Severus Snape is Harry Potter's Parent, Severus Snape Adopts Harry Potter, the second chapter is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:00:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25671727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostintheclouds321/pseuds/lostintheclouds321
Summary: When Harry Potter loses his memories and identity in a house fire, he ends up in an orphanage - the last thing he expected was getting adopted.When Severus Snape stumbles across an orphan with Lily's eyes, he makes an impulsive decision.Russian Translation
Relationships: Harry Potter & Severus Snape, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter
Comments: 57
Kudos: 858





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Harry Potter fanfiction, I hope you enjoy! :)  
> And please, for my sake, pretend Severus isn't as observant as canon lmao  
> [Fanart](https://lostintheclouds321.tumblr.com/post/625359385719390208/for-my-new-fanfiction-scarface-when-harry-potter)
> 
> Harry is nine at the beginning  
> Now translated into Russian [on Ficbook](https://ficbook.net/readfic/9730223) by   
> Скарамар

Harry was locked in the cupboard when it started. Everyone else was fast asleep. He had been pressed up to the crack under the door so he could read a book one of his teachers had given him. It wasn’t often that the Dursley’s forgot to turn off the downstairs light, so he was always ready to take advantage of the opportunity when he could.

So incredibly focused on his book, it took him some time to notice the smell of smoke in the air or the crackling of wood above him. When there was a whole world for him to explore – wrapped up neatly in the pages of his story – there was no need for him to pay attention to his other senses. By the time he picked up on what happened, it was too late. The door in front of him caught alight and took his book with it.

He backed up as fast as he could, but his fingers had been burned slightly and tears ran down his cheeks from the pain. It didn’t take long for the fire to trail towards him along the floor. Harry held up his red hands like he could do anything about it but the flame continued to chase him until his back was against the door. In a fit of fear, he screamed and out of nowhere, water flooded his cupboard.

The fire on the ground was rapidly extinguised and the water pushed on the small cupboard door. Even though the area had been locked, the door was pushed off its hinges and past the lock. Harry wasn’t one to wait for someone else to save him – he had long ago learned no one would come for him – and he ran out of his cupboard.

Harry was greeted with the house completely alight. Too kind for his own good, Harry’s first thought was about the Dursley’s and if they had made it out of the fire. However, when he went to the stairs, there was simply no way around the inferno that raged on the stairs.

He inhaled a particularly large amount of smoke before coughing it out immediately. When he tried to breathe again, the result didn’t differ. There was no way he could breathe in here!

The next place he went to, was the front door. But when he reached for the handle, it scalded his hand and he drew away immediately. Harry’s panic was at unprecedented levels considering just a few minutes ago he had been lost in his book so his next idea was not his smartest.

Looking for a way to open the door, he reaches for the curtain next to the nearby window. Hoping to either escape through the glass or use it to touch the metal, he pulls it down. Unfortunately for the boy, he didn’t notice that the other end of the curtain had caught flame. When he pulled it down, the top of it – bright with flame – fell straight onto his face, burning his skin.

The pain was like nothing he had ever felt before – even worse than the belt Uncle Vernon used to punish him. Harry clawed at his face in a feeble attempt to pull it off. He succeeded, but once it was off, it brought the towering metal coat rack standing next to it along to the floor.

Harry screamed and pulled into himself as the coat rack fell towards him until there was a loud pop. The next thing he knew, he was looking up at the open stars and falling towards the ground. With his back down and nothing to grab onto he landed harshly and his head was one of the first parts of his body to make contact with the ground. The sound his skull made when it hit the asphalt was even louder than the pop that brought him here.

For the last few seconds of his consciousness, Harry marveled at the stars and took gasping breaths of fresh air. He wondered if the Dursleys ever made it out.

As he stood alongside the three other boys, Matron Unwen affixed _him_ with a nasty glare and he ducked his head accordingly, not wanting to make her any angrier. The boy sported a purpling bruise under his chin from where one of the other boys had punched him. They were all covered in grass stains and dirt, but he was in the worst shape.

Despite how he had been the one dragged out to the grassy backyard and beat on by the others, Matron Unwen seemed to have it out for him. It had been that way ever since he arrived. Not even the right side of his face being wrapped in gauze had earned pity from her; she hated him on sight. He wasn’t quite sure if there was a rhyme to her reason, but he accepted it nonetheless. It seemed like people hating him was his normal.

The boy did his best to stay out of her way and sometimes he worked on instinct when it came to interacting with her. During his short time at the orphanage, he’d noticed that he had an innate sense for how to react to her. When she was in a ‘mood,’ he retreated to the room he shared with some of the boys; when she was prepared to strike him as ‘punishment,’ he braced himself to take it – knowing full well it would end up worse if he didn’t.

_It could be worse._

He wasn’t sure what had happened to him in the past for him to pick up these behaviors and attitude, but figured it was best that he didn’t remember. The only thing he really wanted to know was _who_ he was.

A random woman found him passed out in the street not so long ago. He imagines that with the recent burn wound and the gash in the back of his head, he couldn’t have been a pretty sight. Luckily for him, she managed to stay calm and take him to the hospital.

When he awoke and revealed he had no memories of his past, the staff went into a sort of flurry and he ended up being caught up in a long conversation with a doctor, a social worker, and one of the nurses. He was in the hospital for a week with no word of anyone looking for him.

By the time he was released to the orphanage, the hospital mocked up some documents for him and a nurse had given him the name ‘Jamie.’ He liked it, but it didn’t seem to fit all that well with him. (Despite any grievances he had about the name, the boy couldn’t deny that it filled him with a sense of nostalgia.)

All of his connections would likely remain forever trapped in his memories, but none of it explained the thrumming underneath his skin or the energy that would spark at his fingertips if he tried hard enough. There was something different about him and he wanted to know just what it was.

It was also one of the reasons the other boys picked on him so badly. Brandon, the boy who slept in the bed next to his, caught him practicing with the unnatural force one day. After that, they all decided to try and beat the ‘freak’ out of him. However, nothing they did made him think any less of the things he could do.

When it was clear he couldn’t practice out in the open, he resolved to locking himself in the shared bathroom in the middle of the night and trying to get _anything_ to happen. He failed more than he succeeded. But it was worth it for the rare joy that bubbled up inside of him when he did manage to create a reaction.

Jamie knows he is capable of greater things. How else would he have ended up in the middle of an empty street with signs of being in a fire? There hadn’t been anything like that in the area for miles and miles. Yet, he is content with the small sparks and images he can create with this power. One time he even managed to levitate one of other boy’s toothbrushes that they’d left behind on the small counter (when he dropped it in the toilet, he gave it a good cleaning and pretended that nothing happened).

But his special talent wouldn’t get him out of his punishment for ‘wreaking havoc’ with the other boys.

Matron Unwen held out her hand for him to give her his hands and he pulled himself out of his thoughts. He put his hands out palm up and she harshly dragged him forward. Once he’d gained his footing, she pulled out the dreaded wooden ruler and slapped it down on his skin as hard as she could; she repeated the action a few more times until his hands were red.

He remained firm in his belief that it could have been worse.

“You have done nothing but cause trouble since you’ve been here, Jamie,” she harshly scolded him. He didn’t bother correcting her – the last time he tried that, she sent him to bed without dinner – and let her continue, “Time and time again, you’ve been trying to get these boys in trouble. If you don’t behave yourself on today’s outing, you will lose access to the library for a week!”

Jamie stilled at that threat. The ‘library’ was a dilapidated bookshelf in the corner of the orphanage and he was one of the few who actually used it. Already, he’d read through almost half the books. When he wasn’t working on schoolwork or being dragged around by the boys, his eyes were glued to the pages.

Reading didn’t come easy to him because of his eyesight and sometimes he got headaches. Either way, he powered through and found himself lost in the pages. He was still using the bent out of shape frames that were practically stuck on his face when he first woke up in the hospital, but the prescription was off. His damaged right eye didn’t help at all.

He could still see out of it, but it was much worse compared to his other eye. Sometimes he would simply close his right eye and manage that way – but not often as it made his headache worse.

Taking away his reading privileges was one of the worst punishments they could give him and everyone knew it. One of the boys sniggered and Matron Unwen shot him a glare. Jamie was feeling as tense as could be but nodded in agreement before she sent him off to his room to get cleaned up before they left for the park.

The other boys stayed behind for their, likely, less severe punishments.

Jamie trotted up the stairs to his room and changed clothes. His ‘wardrobe’ wasn’t too extensive and a lot of it was made up of hand me downs that had cycled through the orphanage, but they weren’t in bad shape, nor did they hang off his body like the rags he’d been found in. As bad as life was at the orphanage was, he was probably better off _here_ than where he’d been last.

When he heard the ruckus the other boys were making as they climbed the stairs, he pulled on his shoes, grabbed the book he was reading, and rushed out of the room. As they met up in the hallway, Jamie did his best to avoid them but Brandon shoved him into the wall as his friends laughed.

Worried that his glasses broke in the collision, he took them off his face and examined the frames and weak glass. They were okay, thankfully.

He ended up in the kitchen to grab a quick snack before they left. Usually, the kids at the orphanage weren’t allowed to take food without permission, but he was allowed a snack bar between meals. When he was released to the orphanage, the doctor informed the Matron that Jamie needed to be eating a bit more than the other boys to build up weight.

As strict as the Matron was, she wasn’t _cruel_ in any sort of way. When it was revealed that Jamie had poor health, she made sure he was taken care of. The woman wasn’t the nicest or most ‘motherly’ person out there, but there was a reason she was in charge of the orphanage.

The boy took a seat on one of the wooden benches near the door and took small bites out of the snack bar. It wasn’t the best tasting thing, but it did the trick. Once he was done, he balled up the wrapper and shoved it into the pocket in his shorts. Hopefully, he remembered to throw it away later.

Jamie ended up swinging his legs under the bench while he waited for everyone else to gather at the door. The orphanage wasn’t terribly _full_ so the group wouldn’t be too large. In the building, there were eight boys including Jamie. Aside from the ones who picked on him – who were also nine – there were two teenagers and two younger kids.

There were only five girls at the orphanage and they were all pretty close in age aside from June who was five. While most of the kids tended to avoid Jamie – either because they didn’t like him or because of the giant scar on his face – June didn’t mind talking to him.

Despite how young she was, he was grateful for the company. The little girl was probably the closest he would ever get to having a friend. It was why her upcoming adoption was bittersweet for him. Most of the arrangements had been made with her soon-to-be family which meant she only had a week or so left at the orphanage.

It only made sense that she was getting adopted. Her hair was blonde with small ringlets and she had blue eyes.

Compared to her, Jamie might as well be the devil incarnate. He had messy brown hair that never listened to him and a large patch of red skin surrounding his eye and climbing onto his forehead. Where he used to have a jagged scar was now covered with angry red skin. His only redeeming features were his green eyes and even then, the color in his right one had faded after the fire.

It was unlikely that he would ever be adopted. Matron Unwen had laid it out for him plainly the second he arrived at the orphanage.

So, when June came up to him and hoisted herself up onto the wooden bench he smiled down at her, “Jamie,” she started, drawing out his name, “Do you know where we’re going?”

“The park,” she narrowed her eyes as if unsure whether or not to be happy with that answer so he clarified, “Yes, the one you like. With the playground.”

She squealed in excitement and her arms shot up into the air, “Yay!” she cheered so loud it echoed through the house.

He put a single finger up to his lips and she copied the gesture, “Remember what Matron Unwen says about our indoor voices.”

June, still quite loudly, made a ‘shushing’ noise and nodded in agreement, “I’ll do my best!”

Slowly, the other kids streamed out of their rooms and June was pulled into conversation with the older girls. They were a fairly tight knit group and excellent at pretending Jamie didn’t exist. The boy was just glad they weren’t mean to him.

Once all thirteen kids were gathered in the main hall, Matron Unwen grabbed the hands of the younger boys and led the way out the door. The rest of the orphans dutifully followed her.

Jamie lingered at the back of the group with no friends to talk to and found himself looking at the clouds on the way to the park. He held his book tight to his chest and wished he could have stayed back at the orphanage instead of going on the outing . Unfortunately, not even being Matron Unwen’s favorite would have granted Jamie that ability as she trusted absolutely none of them.

As soon as they were at the park, Jamie split off from the group and made a place for himself under a tree. He made sure he was close enough to the Matron that the other boys couldn’t pick on him and claim they were innocent.

The park they were at was nice. It wasn’t the biggest but it was close to the orphanage so it was the Matron’s favorite place to take them. It had a short and badly tamed field next to the park that was full of weeds and assorted plants that most definitely didn’t belong there. The tree he was sitting at resided next to a shallow pond that Matron Unwen forbade all of them from entering.

Most of the kids were hanging around the playground.

They must have been there for only forty five minutes when Jamie finally shut his book for the last time. With nothing to do, he looked around the field. Oddly enough, there was a man out in the middle of it. He was hunched over the grass and dressed in thick, black robes.

Jamie couldn’t imagine that it was very comfortable what with the sun beating down on them all; even though it was almost September, the heat hadn’t relented. Uncharacteristically, the stranger was carrying a wicker basket and pulling weeds and flowers alike to keep. As the man collected plants diligently, Jamie couldn’t help but wonder what they were all for.

Before he could work up the courage to go over and ask, Brandon and his lackies all came up to Jamie with evil looks on their faces. He glared up at them and shot a glance to Matron Unwen who looked distracted with three of the older girls who were talking to her about something.

He edged himself to a standing position and backed up until his back hit the tree. He froze where he stood as an image of flame flashed across his eyes. Jamie shook himself out of it and put the book he was holding behind his back.

Maybe if he hadn’t done this, the boys wouldn’t have latched onto the object. However, it likely wouldn’t have stopped them from targeting him. While Brandon stalked closer to the smaller boy, his friend Davis came up to the side and grabbed the book from Jamie, “Hey, give that back!” he called out weakly – knowing full well they wouldn’t listen to him.

“What are you going to do about it, scarface?” Brandon sneered at him and Jamie suddenly felt a wave of anger come up within him. Behind him, a tree branch cracked.

The boys all spread apart and threw the book back and forth between themselves. They were all laughing and Jamie weakly tried to get it back. Then, Davis threw it way off course and it landed straight in the pond next to him.

The boy watched as the water ripple out from where the book sank in the pond and pain shot through his head. The second he took a step forward a hefty branch fell from the tree. He looked at it before making eye contact with Brandon. Remarkably, the ringleader looked a little bit frightened.

They all ran off and Jamie settled down next to the pond so he could retrieve the book. He unlaced his shoes and pushed his socks into them. He tip toed into the pond and made a face when his toes sunk into the ground. He ignored the slimy feeling and reached down into the pond to look for the book.

It wasn’t terribly deep or wide so he found the book rather easily. Once he’d pulled it out, he did his best to slick the water off of his limbs and feet before putting his shoes back on. Jamie was a bit disappointed that the book was soggy and would dry all wrinkly, but Matron Unwen would certainly scold him worse were he to return without any book (regardless of how he was one of the few who actually read from the library).

When he turned to head back to where the Matron was, everyone was gone. There wasn’t a single kid to be found when he looked around the field. Even the man in the dark robes wasn’t there anymore.

Jamie swore before he broke into a run out the gate. He could hardly believe they would leave without them but suspected Brandon had something to do with it – what with all of his cruel schemes. The boy wasn’t too worried about how he would get back as he was okay with directions, but at this rate he was definitely going to lose his ‘Library’ privileges.

He ran without abandon in hopes of catching up with them again. However, when he turned the corner the ended running face first into someone’s back. It was the stranger from the park with the childish looking flower basket!

The man turned to give him a glare before freezing in place when he saw Jamie. The boy _knew_ he looked horrible, but the man didn’t have to be so obvious about it.

He moved the book in front of him, so it was held in both hands before he said, “I’m really sorry, but I need to get back home,” he cringed when he said ‘home.’ The orphanage was anything _but_.

In return, he was graced with a glare that would put Matron Unwen to shame. He felt respectively cowed and shrunk backwards a bit, “And where are your parents?” the man questioned suspiciously like Jamie was doing something wrong – other than running into strangers that is.

However, the question was a bit suspicious, so Jamie instead narrowed his eyes back at the man, “Why do you want to know?” Miraculously, the glare got worse at the question and Jamie felt pressured to answer, “I don’t have any; they’re probably dead,” he said a bit loudly, trying to emulate the man’s look.

The man looked taken aback by that statement even though Jamie felt nothing from it. It was likely the truth and Jamie was better off for it, judging by how he reacted to the matron and everything else that had sprung up from his mysterious past.

“Well, in any case, you need to learn to get better control of yourself and your magic. Don’t think I didn’t notice your magic at the park,” he said sternly, and Jamie was certifiably confused.

“What do you mean ‘magic?’” he asked.

The stranger took a deep breath as if Jamie were annoying him when _he_ was the one who insisted on a conversation, “Bloody hell. You’ll find out where you’re eleven,” he said before waving Jamie off.

All the same, the boy wasn’t one to back away from the answers he needed and asked his question again. When the man started to walk away, Jamie cried out, “Is magic the reason why I’m a _freak_?”

_That_ got the man’s attention. He turned back to look at Jamie with a sharp look in his eyes, “Is that what they call you? At wherever you’re staying?”

“The orphanage? You don’t get off scot free when you look like me _and_ aren’t like the other kids,” he scoffed. It shouldn’t be that hard to piece together.

As the other man gave him a considering glance, Jamie felt a bit nervous for what he would say next. Instead of having to deal with that conversation, he pivoted on the ball of his foot and ran in an arch around the man.

Jamie took off and didn’t hear another word from the man.

The boy would never admit that something good had happened as a result of losing his book privileges, but that was exactly what had happened.

When he’d gotten to the orphanage and everyone was wondering where he’d went, he had prepared for the worst. Instead, he’d found that Brandon had told Matron Unwen that Jamie had gone back to the orphanage without everyone else. They walked back early because of that and when Jamie _wasn’t_ there, it was Brandon who got in trouble – a rare occurrence indeed.

That didn’t mean Jamie got off without consequence. The Matron took away his access to the ‘library’ because the book ended up in the pond _and_ Jamie went after it when she’d expressed they were to do no such thing.

It could have been worse, but he thinks that the Matron was just glad no one had actually been ‘lost’ during the event.

Brandon’s punishment was garden duties for the next two weeks. The boy would have to weed, water, and prune the plants that were usually the Matron’s job. The garden was a small plot in front of the orphanage and Jamie never payed much attention to it.

However, with the boys’ ringleader preoccupied with extra chores, Jamie was given ample time to spend by himself. Especially considering he was faster when it came to completing his homework. With no books to read and no one to really talk to aside from June, he found himself going to the backyard.

At the very back of the space was a nice rock that he found himself sitting on. He turned his back to the house and kept his ears open while he tried to use his supposed magic. There was a small daisy patch that had found its way into the shady area and he focused with all his might on trying to make the daisies grow bigger.

Unfortunately, the action ended up taking a lot of energy for practically no result so he didn’t stay out long. That was, until today.

After two days of attempting to use his magic, Jamie was ready to give up until he saw a flash of green in the corner of his eye. He thought that maybe his efforts had succeeded partially. Instead, a small garden snake crawled out into the open.

Jamie was so startled that he fell backwards off the rock. He tried to scramble away when he heard something of a whisper, “ _Silly human._ ”

At those words, Jamie looked all around him before turning his attention to the snake. Is this one of those ‘magic’ things? He’s never spoken to any other animals before. Perhaps it was the _snake_ who was magical?

Either way, he wanted to learn more. He climbed up onto his rock and looked down on the snake, “ _You startled me! I didn’t expect to see a snake here_.”

The snake turned to look at Jamie and slithered closer to the rock, “ _So you can understand me, then?_ ” Jamie simply nodded, “ _Very interesting_.”

“ _Do you promise not to bite me?”_ Jamie asked cautiously.

Instead of answering, the snake bobbed its head in imitation of Jamie’s action. The boy reached down and let the snake wrap itself around his arm and over his body. Jamie laughed at the weird feeling the snake left on him.

“ _Have you ever met anyone else who could speak to snakes?_ ” Jamie asks eagerly. Maybe the snake could lead him to someone like him who wasn’t a creepy flower collector like the man dressed in black.

The snake wove its way around Jamie’s arm and up onto his shoulders. The boy shivered when the creature whispered in his ear, “ _Never_.”

This dampened his spirits a bit. What if he never met anyone else like him? Maybe, like that man had said, he would just have to wait until he was eleven to find out. A frown found its way onto his face at that thought and his shoulders slumped; he didn’t like not knowing things.

The snake stayed curled around his neck, “ _Do_ you _know why you can talk to me?_ ”

“ _I wish I did_. _So, what do you do all day?”_ he asked in a motion to change the topic. The snake didn’t seem to mind and walked him through his life.

Jamie was glad for someone to talk to, snake or not, it was nice to have company. They made casual talk like that until the sun went down. Jamie knew he would have to keep this encounter, and ones in the future, to himself.

Who knew what Brandon would try to pull if he found out Jamie could talk to snakes as well? It was good that he never felt the need to share with them for validation. He whispered out a ‘goodbye’ when Matron Unwen called him in for dinner and hoped he would be able to see the snake once again.

Severus was distracted. It wasn’t the offer Albus had extended to him regarding teaching at the school or the order of Pepperup he had to finish by the end of the week that held a tight grasp on his mind. Instead, it was the orphan he’d met the other day.

The man had been isolated by himself as of late. The Firewhiskey bottle he’d rarely opened in the past, was now completely drained. The reason for this all? Just two months ago, Harry Potter had died.

It wasn’t in a spectacular fashion or because of some heroic act; instead, he’d gone down – burnt to death – in his relatives’ house. Severus hadn’t even known the brat was staying with Petunia, but it was a certainty that the boy was gone.

The whole of Magical Britain was mourning the boy’s death. Some even going as far as to only wear black in public. He was not completely surprised by the people’s actions; ‘Harry Potter’ had become a household name, after all. Yet, it didn’t escape him that the boy had likely had no interaction with the whole of the wizarding world considering who he was raised by.

Petunia had always been a jealous girl and he can’t imagine that it transferred well into her adulthood.

Alas, every time he saw one of those wizards mourning the Boy Who Lived, he couldn’t help but feel a curl of guilt in his abdomen. Had he not delivered the prophecy to the Dark Lord, it was likely the whole family would be still alive.

There was no longer a single Potter left.

Then Severus came across a young boy with poor control over his magic and seemingly no clue over who he was and what he was doing. When the orphan bumped into him on the street, Severus turned and froze when he looked at the boy. His eyes, they were just like Lily’s.

For just a second, he entertained the idea that maybe Harry Potter hadn’t died after all – that this boy in front of him was the Boy Who Lived. He quickly replaced that thought with a scowl and had all but interrogated the boy.

From that short conversation, he found himself further projecting Lily onto the boy. He remembered, all too well, her grievances about Petunia calling her a ‘freak’ and their gradual separation. The first time her sister called her as such, Lily cried over it and Severus did his best to assure her such was not the case.

No matter what Severus does, the boy stays on his mind. His walks, which he takes outside of Cokeworth, end up leading him to the very orphanage the boy had mentioned. With a Disillusionment Charm cast on himself, he went unnoticed and thought over what life at the orphanage must be like.

Worse came to worse and Severus found himself pitying the boy. There was no question that he was the result of a misplaced child whose parents had died in the war. He was alone with no understanding of the culture he would one day be living in or the life he could have.

Then, one day, his walk ended up with him seeing something that cemented his decision. The boy was in the front yard curled in on himself in the yard; on all sides of him were boys with cruel looks on their faces. The boy was in a position that kept his head and abdomen safe as if he were used to it.

Severus dropped his charm and yelled at the bullies. They, respectively cowed, quickly ran back into the orphanage. The orphan who was left behind unfurled from where he was crouched over revealing a small green snake.

The young wizard’s green eyes peered up at Severus and the man looked just slightly away. The similarities were too unnerving.

When the snake hissed at the orphan, the boy’s eyes were dragged away from Severus. When he responded to the snake, Severus knew there was no way this boy could really be Harry. There was no one in the Potter line with such an ability and it was passed through genetics. The only other person Severus had met with the ability was the Dark Lord.

He remained steady at the familiar sound of Parseltongue until the boy looked at him again, “So why are you here? I’ve not turned eleven yet,” he stated with a gleam in his eyes.

Severus pursed his lips at the informal way of speaking before answering, “Well, _someone_ has to teach you what it means to be a wizard,” he says indifferently.

The boy’s eyes widened in realization, confirming that Severus had been clear enough in the statement, “What of my scar?” he asks with a wondering look on his face. A small hand reaches up to touch the puckered skin.

“What do you mean?” the man wonders.

The young boy’s mouth twists up in distaste as it he’d eaten something poor tasting, “It’s unsightly and you’re not exactly subtle about your staring,” he accuses.

In all reality, Severus couldn’t care less about the scar on his face. It was the boy’s eyes that were most unnerving in their familiarity. Severus sneered at the thought that he would scorn a child for such a mark and said so plainly.

“Then why do you look at me like that? You don’t even know me.”

The potion maker scowled but the boy didn’t falter. He let out a sigh and held his nose high, “Your eyes, they remind me of a friend’s.” Thankfully, the kid didn’t question him any farther on the matter, “What is your name?”

The boy looked down, “Jamie,” he said under his breath.

“Don’t mutter,” he instructed and the boy said it again louder; pleased, Severus decided to ask, “So do you wish to-“ he thought over his next words – he was quite sure that he would make a horrible father, probably not as bad as Tobias but still not truly worthy of a child of his own; however, he couldn’t be worse than the orphanage. The adoption would give him a good reason to finally let go of Spinner’s End and move outside of Cokeworth – away from all of the horrid memories and regrets, “to become my ward?”

It was clear from the look on Jamie’s face that he picked up the wording, but he looked up at Severus and nodded, “Will this mean I can practice magic? I’ve not been able to do anything other than sparks and things on accident.”

“I would not be adverse to you practicing a bit before Hogwarts,” he muttered, thinking of the days when he and Lily would try to muster up their own childish magic when they were Jamie’s age.

Before Jamie could ask another question, Severus instructed him to bring him to whoever he needed to talk to. He was unaccustomed to how muggles did things and if it proved to be too difficult, Severus might just obliviate them and take the child regardless. He knew firsthand how cruel muggles could be to those with magic.

Instead of immediately leading Severus into the orphanage, the boy leans down to the snake and says something that will remain indiscernible to the potion maker. The snake looks at Severus and hisses something that makes Jamie laugh. He glares in case it was something derisive towards him, but Jaimie doesn’t linger and takes him inside.

Severus isn’t too sure what he’s gotten himself into, but he’s fully prepared to deal with the consequences.

The Potion Master wasn’t surprised when the only person Jamie said goodbye to at the orphanage was a young girl with no judgement in her eyes. Based on how the other orphans and the Matron looked at the boy, they held no love for him. They probably thought he would never get adopted at all.

Severus _is_ surprised by Jamie’s easy-going nature. Even though the boy is an orphan and has likely never had things easy, the wizard has a jaded view of children: as greedy, ill-tempered creatures. The only experience he had with them was through his god-son Draco. While the boy had usually impeccable manners, he expected everything to come to him easily and didn’t bother exerting true effort.

Jamie had the opposite view on the world – instead he believed that he had to work for everything that was given to him.

Finding the cheap house in the middle of nowhere had been easy. He bought it from a muggle family who was moving out of the country. Severus was ready to do the packing and unpacking by himself and with the help of his magic. Jamie quickly intervened and decided he needed to assist as well. It wasn’t long before the boy tired himself out trying to carry furniture much too heavy for him.

Either way, once all of the furniture was settled in the house Severus prepared the house for a magical transformation. The ritual was easy, although it required immense focus, and as soon as he’d drawn the chalk and prepared the necessary plans for arrangement, he sent Jamie out before performing it.

The boy, upon entry, made a shout of surprise when he saw how different the house looked. The wood trim spruced up and the wallpaper had been cleaned; the furniture gleamed like it had just been bought and everything was neatly organized as if they’d had a pack of movers help them set up. The ritual itself sprung up from complex transfiguration, persuasion charms, and cleaning spells.

The house’s previous rustic look was now more modernized and habitable. Though the house was small, it was made up of two floors. There were two bedrooms on the upper floor and a small study space. Downstairs had some storage space under the stairs, another study which Severus had converted into his Potions Lab, the kitchen, and a small living area.

Although the house was filled with the small furniture as Spinner’s End, it felt more like a home than the house in Cokeworth ever did. Maybe it was the fresh air and wide fields around them, but Severus was rather satisfied with where they would now be living.

Jamie, that night, insisted on helping with dinner and demonstrated that he was rather adept at cooking and preparing food. That dinner, Severus learned quite a lot about the boy, namely that he doesn’t know a lot about himself. What the boy does know stems from the past few months after he woke up with a severe case of amnesia.

They share a love for knowledge and reading; Severus makes sure to fill the upstairs study with the books he has collected from a young age and lets Jamie know he has full access to them. The more dangerous books are either tucked into his own room or the Lab – both of which are places Jamie is not allowed into.

For the first week, their dynamic is awkward and tense. Severus does his best to start conversations but Jamie doesn’t seem to feel secure in the house. The most they talk about has to do with wizarding culture or something Jamie read about in one of his books.

The boy continues to insist on helping where he can and has a genuine interest in Severus’s potion making (he’s continuing to fill orders for different potion shops, switching houses did not affect his schedule by much).

The friction seems to come to a halt one night when Severus finds Jamie awake in the middle of the night and looking at the one picture he keeps in the house; it’s a framed moving picture of Lily and her son, trimmed to keep James out of his sight. She’s grinning and tucking her hair behind her ear while baby Harry is cooing and reaching for her hand.

Jamie is in his pajamas and has one of his blankets wrapped around his shoulders suggesting he just woke up from one of the nightmares he refuses to talk about. Severus clears his throat to alert Jamie to his presence and the boy turns to look at him.

He gives a tired grin before asking, “Is this your friend? She’s rather pretty.” The boy looks at Severus with those eyes that are so similar to her’s and Severus’s voice catches in his throat for just a second.

The man takes a few steps closer to the cabinet the picture sits neatly on top of, “Yes. That’s her and her son.”

“Where is she now?”

For just a second, the Potion Master wishes Jamie weren’t so inquisitive but knows that would likely leave him a numb child. He answers nonetheless with a bitter tone in his voice, “Lily died years ago.” His sentence seems to dampen the boy’s attitude for just a second and his shoulders slump.

“What about her baby?”

Severus hums in thought, leaving too much of a pause between question and answer. The answer is something he becomes less and less sure of by the day – especially as Jamie begins to look more and more like his school-yard bully as he opens up. When all he answers with is, “Dead” he’s never felt more unsure of it in his life.

He knows he should let go of the fantastical idea that Jamie is Harry, but it has stayed in his head since his first conversation with the boy. His desperate thoughts leave him to pity himself, but the truth is not something he can change.

“Do you want something to help you sleep?” he asks dryly, turning the conversation from the depressing topic.

Jamie’s eyes brighten and he eagerly asks, “Do you mean like a potion?” The boy continues to reveal his fancy for all things magical.

Suppressing the urge to groan, Severus corrects him, “I was thinking more along the lines of warm milk.”

The boy pouts and Severus resists the tug at the edge of his lips. He tells Jamie to go sit at the table while he heats up the milk before joining him with a glass of water for himself, “Did you have another nightmare?” he asks when the boy has both hands wrapped comfortably around the mug.

His face twists into something of displeasure but nods all the same, “It’s the same one every time, I didn’t have them at the orphanage. Or at least, I didn’t have _these_ ones,” he clarifies and Severus surmises he still doesn’t want to talk about them.

The Potion Master understands – he’s had his own fair share of nightmares as well – and simply hopes the dreams won’t get in the way of Jamie’s sleep forever, “If you need to talk about them, you can come to me,” before the boy can protest he elaborates, “That’s what I signed up for when I took you in, Jamie. I won’t let you stew in those thoughts under this roof if I can avoid it.”

At that, he gets nothing more than a nod and a thoughtful look. They sit down there in silence until Jamie finishes his milk and heads back to bed with a simple, ‘Goodnight.’ Severus is left downstairs to wonder if he’s been thinking about this guardianship the wrong way.

When he offered, he had thought of it as nothing more than getting a magical child out of a cruel environment. This past week, they’ve maintained a respectful distance between each other but haven’t covered anything of substance. Was Jamie suffering because of his trepidation towards forming a relationship?

In the future, will he start to see Jamie as his own?

After their midnight talk, it seems that Severus is not the only one who is making an effort to be more open about his life. Their conversations have moved from superficial things about themselves and the wizarding world and into more depth about opinions and the like.

However, there are still things Jamie seems to be confused about regarding Wizarding Britain. Sometimes Jamie’s questions can become a bit much but Severus pushes through and explains what has been common sense to him for as long as he’s been alive. Yes, Jamie will get a wand when he goes to Hogwarts; no, wizards aren’t immortal; for the last time, you can not make potions yet.

Outside of the more mundane things about wizarding culture, Jamie has started opening up about some of his experiences at the orphanage. One night, in a hushed voice he speaks of how he would sneak into the restroom to practice his magic by himself when everyone else was asleep. In turn, Severus opens up about some of the magic he attempted as a youth.

When the option of retrieving Jamie’s memories comes up – or at least making an appointment at St. Mungo’s to see if it is possible – Jamie admits that he doesn’t think his old memories will be worth having. That makes the man suspicious, but the boy clams up and doesn’t allow for further questions.

Under Severus’s supervision, Jamie practices what he can without a wand and it’s more remarkable than the Potion Master will admit. He can hardly imagine what the boy will be able to do once he begins properly learning.

The rest of the summer passes in a disorganized mess of odd sleeping hours, piles of books perched precariously next to Jamie’s favorite places to sit, and Severus eventually letting Jamie _observe_ some of his potion making. He only allowed the boy in once the young wizard promised not to make any spontaneous movements and think about everything he does. Severus uses the time he is left alone in the lab to work on a magical salve for Jamie’s scar in case he wants to lessen the scarring.

Once Jamie starts up school – he elected to continue with muggle education rather than be homeschooled – they begin a pattern for how their days go. On weekdays, the man will apparate the two of them to a Ministry Approved Apparation spot and walk the kid to his school in Hampstead. On the weekends, Severus lets himself be dragged to the occasional muggle activity like the ‘movie theater’ and to other things Jamie heard about his classmates doing.

The boy hasn’t had much luck when it comes to making new friends, but he did find company in the studious young girl named Hermione. It has gotten to the point where Jamie will occasionally ask to be picked up a little later than normal so the two of them can hang out in the library.

Jamie seems content with his muggle friend, but Severus still wonders if it wouldn’t hurt to introduce him to Draco. His godson might end up benefitting from Jamie’s straight forwardness and earnest attitude. He imagines Jamie would be able to knock some sense into Draco’s head and remain unaffected by the brat’s behavior.

With the pattern in place and the man given more hours of the day to himself, he begins seriously considering taking Dumbledore’s offer to work at Hogwarts. Especially for when Jamie’s wizarding education begins and the costs start to rack up. Even with the boy in muggle school, he finds his freelance potion making money lacking in some places.

Severus decides that if he can handle having Jamie in his lab, he can handle a group of students. He isn’t very teacherly and Jamie is likely more well behaved than most kids but he will eventually grow accustomed to it. Hopefully.

He spares a second to look at the boy currently in his lab. The Blood-Replenishing Potion he’s working on is incredibly basic for his skills; Jamie must think so as well because he’s not paying any attention to Severus and is instead buried in a book. The cover isn’t familiar to him so it must be from the library.

Turning back to his potion, he wonders if Jamie will ever want to help him with them directly – when he’s old enough of course. His last step is to add the dried Dittany Herb and stir clockwise six and half times. Once he’s done, the potion turns into that brown orange color he’s looking for and he extinguishes the fire under his cauldron.

He uses magic to section off the potion into various potion vials and the corks fly right on. As always, he takes the time to label them one by one but makes sure to hurry. It’s almost lunch time.

If he looked up, Jamie would surely be watching the vials floating around the lab. The boy is always fascinated with the simplest uses of magic – the kind of spells Severus would consider basic are brilliant in his eyes. It’s a kind of attention he hasn’t been the target of since Lily.

As soon as he is done packaging them to be sent, he motions for Jamie to accompany him outside of the lab. Hopping off of his chair, Jamie is happy to comply and hurries over to Severus.

However, just a few feet away from the man is a potion sitting on the edge of the table – one he knows will have a disastrous effect if let loose. Jamie doesn’t seem to notice or even see it because of his scarred eye.

Almost in slow motion, Jamie’s book hits the potion and Severus’s wand is already at the ready. Using his quick thinking he manages to cast a wordless _Wingardium Leviosa_ and the vial doesn’t crash into the ground. He heads over and picks it up from where it is floating.

He sets the potion down on the table so that it’s not as close to the edge and turns to face the boy, “Jamie, you need to be more aware of your surroundings when you’re in the lab. You can’t be in here if you’re unable to manage that,” he says sternly.

During his lecture he doesn’t notice Jamie shrinking into himself, “The next time you do that, I won’t let you in here anymore,” he finishes before turning sharply towards the door. Jamie follows behind him until they are side by side at the door.

Severus, nerves fraught from the previous door, shoots his arm out to reach for the door handle and doesn’t miss the way his ward flinches. He opens the door without pause and gentle herds the boy out of the lab, “Jamie, let’s talk on the couch,” he says and the boy dutifully takes a seat on the couch. The man sits next to him, making sure to keep a rational distance.

“I’m really sorry about knocking over your potion, Severus,” he apologizes with his head down and hair covering his eyes.

Taking a deep breath, Severus forgives him. But that’s not why he wanted to talk, “I’m feeling a bit concerned about how you reacted to me opening the door. Yes, I noticed. Is there something I need to know about the orphanage or your previous placement?”

Jamie shifts uncomfortably on the couch and is staring intensely at his hands. He rolls his shoulders back and lifts up his head, staring at Severus. His mouth opens but nothing comes out except for a weak noise that troubles Severus. The man tries to adjust his body to look more open, but it’s an awkward shift and Jamie looks at him incredulously.

Then, with a finality to it, he nods his head, “It’s from before the orphanage. I don’t know who I lived with, but I know they weren’t nice. It’s just in how I react to things. Whenever Matron Unwen was mad, I’d hide or just get really scared. Plus, when they found me I was really underweight and in really unfitting clothes.”

Severus clenches his fists and shuffles so they’re hidden under his robe sleeves, “Is this why you’ve been reluctant to go to St. Mungo’s to see if they can do anything about your memory?”

The boy purses his lips and nods – just once – and Severus sees a slight shine in his eyes, “I just don’t think anything good will come of it. And I already have some scary memories from it that I don’t want to remember.”

The man reaches out a hand, but Jamie doesn’t flinch this time. Resting it on the young wizard’s shoulder he assures, “I understand. My childhood might not have been so unsimilar to yours,” he says, thinking of Tobias and his drunken violence.

Jamie leans slightly into Severus’s hand, “You didn’t deserve that,” he mumbles in a wobbly voice.

“And neither did you.”

At that, Jamie’s tears finally fall over his eyelids and trail down his face. He doesn’t move towards Severus for comfort and he barely makes a sound despite the pain he looks to be in. Severus can’t help but wonder if his silence is because of his last home. The man moves over to be closer to Jamie but doesn’t increase contact with the boy. He isn’t an expert in comfort and isn’t pretending to be.

With a quiet whimper, Jamie works to wipe away his tears and recollect himself. Severus decides that no matter who the boy was in his past, he’ll be there for him in the future.

The man wakes up to the walls shaking all around him and a scream that echoes through the hall outside of his room. Severus is out of his bed and heading outside of his room in an instant. He walks down the hallway, past the upstairs study, and runs into Jamie’s room.

The room is a mess. Blankets litter the floor and some of his books have fallen off of their shelf. Jamie is sitting up with his legs curled into his chest. His cheeks are wet and there’s a few drops of blood dripping from his forehead.

The boy looks positively traumatized.

Severus swoops over to Jamie and flutters useless next to him. He’s unsure if he should reach out or just stay where he is. In the end, he doesn’t need to make the decision by himself. In a sudden flurry of movement, Jamie is pulling him with a hug and starts sobbing into Severus’s night clothes.

He finds himself putting, what he hopes is, a comforting hand on the boy’s back and holds him tight. As far as he knows, Jamie has never had a nightmare this bad. The accidental magic shaking the house was enough of a sign of that.

The man shuffles closer to the bed so they can both sit, but he makes sure not to break the desperate hug. Looking down at the boy’s forehead, he can’t find any obvious wound aside from the burn scar and the blood has, thankfully, stopped dripping down. He wipes it away and wishes he had his wand to do something about the mess.

Eventually, Jamie pulls away and back into himself. His eyes are unfocused without his glasses but they shine with his remaining tears. Severus waits for him to say something first.

“It was the same nightmare as always, except this time-“ he chokes on his words. Severus offers a hand to hold in case the boy needs it, it’s taken in an instant. “There was so much more to it and I saw people this time,” he mutters.

He starts to put it together, “Your parents?”

Surprisingly, Jamie shakes his head, “I don’t think so. There was a really scary guy there but then there was also,” the boy looks the wizard in his eyes and Severus can feel a weight hanging heavy in the air, “It was the woman in your picture.”

Severus takes in a sharp breath, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Then there was this green light and I woke up. I don’t know why it’s affecting me this much,” he admits, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

A sharp feeling of desperation shoots through Severus as he realizes what all of this means, “I think that Lily was your mother,” he breathes out.

“I thought both she and her baby were dead?”

“So did I.” They sit in silence for a few more moments before Severus elaborates, “After Lily was killed, her son was sent to live with her sister’s family. A few months ago, the word was broken that her son and the muggles he was living with all died – in a house fire.”

Jamie seems to understand what Severus is getting at, “Do you think I could have used accidental magic to get out of there, then?” The man nods and Jamie grips his hand tighter, “Then, what was my name?”

“Harry Potter.”

Neither of them slept much that night. Even after he prepares some warm milk for Jamie – or rather, _Harry_ , the boy hounds him for stories about Lily and James. It’s a good thing that it wasn’t a school night. For when morning comes, neither of them emerge from their rooms until it’s almost ten AM.

Severus finds the boy in the kitchen cooking some omelets and gets to work cutting up some fruit for the two of them. He does it in a rather mundane way – by not using any magic – as a method of passing time and clearing his thoughts.

They finish up at the same time, plate their food, and sit down at the table. Both of them are rather silent until Severus decides to ask, “What do you want me to call you? Jamie or Harry?”

The boy finishes the bit he’s working on before clearing his throat, “Well, Jamie never really fit me all that well. I think I’d like to go with Harry, if it’s all right.”

“It’s fine, do you want me to make the changes at your school?” Severus asks, quickly accepting the change. It would take some getting used to, but he certainly favored the name ‘Harry’ over ‘Jamie;’ especially when ‘Jamie’ was unnervingly close to ‘James.’ He didn’t need any more reminders of his school yard bully.

He certainly didn’t want to fall into being critical of Harry because of who his father is. Had Severus ended up meeting Harry as _Harry_ and hadn’t gotten to know him outside of who his parents were, he likely would have judged him based on that – as much as he hates to admit it.

“If it’s not too hard, I would like that. I don’t know how I’m going to explain it to Hermione though,” he jokes.

Severus hums, “The same way you’ll have to explain this,” he says before pulling the magical salve he’s been working on while Harry has been at school. He doesn’t think it will work to completely remove the burn wound but it should lessen it considerably.

Harry’s upper lip wobbles as Severus explains what it does and graciously accepts the salve. He peaks into the tin before pulling back and making a show of gagging, “That smells horrible. But, thank you Severus.”

“Alas, there was nothing I could do about that unfortunate aspect, but once it sinks into your skin the smell should clear away.” The boy shoots him a wide smile and he musters up a weak grin of his own.

They finish up their breakfasts and Severus takes care of washing the dishes, “We’re leaving in thirty minutes so change into some of your nicer clothes before we leave.” Harry nods and is eager to comply as he rushes up the stairs to get ready.

The trip is one Severus had been planning on regardless of the boy’s identity, but now that he is positive he has Lily’s son in his care it is a trip that they must make. They would be going to Gringotts.

Even if Harry wasn’t _Harry_ , Severus would want to take him to find out his genealogy as he had suspicions that Harry came from a wizarding family who perished in the war. Now, he had to make sure the Potter vault stayed open for Harry to access when he is older.

Severus was still planning on taking care of and supporting Harry through Hogwarts, but it wouldn’t do for Harry to lose all of his inheritance because Severus didn’t act fast enough. The only problem with going to Gringotts was that there would be no way to keep Harry’s existence from the Ministry – or Dumbledore.

However, with no relatives to go to, it was likely that they wouldn’t take Harry from him. It also meant that – with Harry’s hatred of crowds – venturing into Wizarding Britain would have to be a careful task in case they were overwhelmed with impatient witches and wizards.

Before he could properly go over all of the possible consequences that came along with announcing Harry’s survival, it was time to go and Harry was ready. Severus looked over his simple dress shirt and trousers with a black cloak thrown over it and decided that if _he_ hadn’t recognized Harry for who he truly was, no one else would.

They apparated to Diagon Alley and, luckily, it wasn’t too crowded. As they walked through the magical shopping center, he kept a hand on Harry’s shoulder lest the boy became distracted and separated from him.

Harry was clearly having a hard time taking in the Wizarding World and Severus imagines it must be a sharp contrast to what he’s already seen. Here, magic is used freely in stores and signs – anything to capture potential consumers’ attention.

Once they’re at Gringotts, Severus scowls at the warped marble entrance for all the trouble this trip will give the two of them. They make it past the guards and security rather easily and once they are inside Harry looks up at all the goblins have built.

Severus moves the boy along with him to one of the tells and deals with the goblin working it. Even though he’s met with a scowl the whole way through, the two of them are eventually taken to a secluded office where they are to have the meeting.

The goblin they are meeting with sits at his elevated chair and scowls over a few scrolls with numbers hastily written on them. He instructs them to sit without even sparing a glance and they take a seat across from him in old wooden chairs.

They are patient when it comes to getting the goblin’s attention, but once they have it, Harry’s reemergence into the wizarding world truly begins.

Harry is finally ten and he spent the first half of his birthday in Hampstead. Severus figured that since it would be the first birthday he truly remembered, they could spare a trip down to the muggle town for it (even though it was the summer).

This was mostly because they couldn’t exactly invite his muggle friends to his house. Not only were there any roads leading to it, the house was much farther than it should be for him to reasonably commute to his school. They wouldn’t understand.

He’d, overall, had a fun day. On top of being gifted books and a nice looking journal, they had gone to the park and played games and the like. Tyler, one of first friends he made after Hermione, had brought a frisbee and though he’d never used one before, he found it fun to throw around.

The boy was grateful to be able to spend just a bit of his summer with his friends. With all of them planning vacations and the like it was hard to find a time for them to all meet up like they had. He doesn’t know what he’d do without all the great friends he’d made – it was something completely new to him.

“Harry, you have to make sure you call me before my family goes to France, okay?” Hermione pressured him before getting in her family car.

He laughed and promised her with a hug, “Just stay safe during your travels.”

Hermione happily returned the gesture before heading off to go home. Harry went through the same motions with Tyler and the few others who were here before gathering up everything he’d brought and had been given so Severus could apparate them without leaving anything behind.

The man grabbed hold of his shoulder before there was a loud pop and they were back home. When he first apparated, it hadn’t been a comfortable experience but after using the type of magic to get to school every day he was rather used to it.

“Go put your stuff away, I have something for you,” Severus instructs and Harry is quick to comply. He walks up the stairs as fast as he can without running and heads downstairs just as speedily. Even though it was his birthday, he didn’t dare run on the stairs. The last time he’d done so had ended up with him earning a broken nose and a harsh lecture from Severus (after he took Harry to St. Mungo’s, of course).

Once he was properly downstairs and practically vibrating where he stood, Severus led him to sit down on the couch, “First, I didn’t expect myself ever wanting to admit something like this, but I feel that it is only fitting to do so on your birthday.”

Harry is eager to know what Severus is talking about but holds his tongue. Impatience will get him nowhere.

“Almost a year into adopting you, I have begun to rethink what I originally led you to believe when I first took you in.”

At this, Harry’s heart flip flops. The man’s words can be taken in one of two ways: he doesn’t want to take care of Harry anymore or Harry has become more than just a ‘ward’ in need of magical placement to him. He digs his fingers into his trousers in anticipation of what Severus might say.

He hadn’t brought it up to Severus, but he had started seeing the older man as family. Harry was a bit shy when it came to announcing it, however, and stayed silent. That could all change depending on what Severus said.

“I would go as far as to say that I have begun to think of you as a son,” Severus states. The way he says it is remarkably plain, as if they were discussing the weather or a potion, but the content has Harry’s heart swelling in wonder.

When he first ended up in the orphanage and the Matron told him he had no chance of getting adopted, he was resigned to being alone until he possibly had the chance to have his own – as unlikely as it was. Now, Severus was accepting Harry along with everything he knew about him. It didn’t matter that sometimes he was clumsy because of his eyesight or that he didn’t always wake up on time – he truly cared about him.

And wasn’t that what made a family?

Harry was rendered speechless by the declaration. Instead of saying anything in return, he jumps across the couch and tackles Severus in a hug. The older isn’t always one for physical gestures and hugs but he accepts it anyway. Harry feels the man’s finger run through his hair and for once in his entire life, he finally feels like he’s _home_.

He can feel a sob building up in his throat but he holds it back, “Thank you, Severus.” Harry isn’t quite ready to call him ‘dad’ – at least not consciously. Sometimes the word goes straight to the tip of his tongue and he has to hold it back, but one day he’ll just accept it. Because from now on they’ll be sticking together no matter what.

They disentangle like a knot of string coming undone. There are some points where they catch and try to hold on, and some points where it’s natural to let go. Harry is positive he’s never had a better birthday.

“I do have an actual present for you, however,” Severus informs him and Harry is astounded. He’d be perfectly content with how things had already gone. So, to receive something else is beyond what he needs.

Severus doesn’t seem to care and he reaches underneath the couch to pull out a long package wrapped in brown paper. It looks thin aside from the end which flares out. The man hands it over and Harry begins to gingerly open it up. It’s, “A broom?”

“Your father was fond of them; and though he and I had our _differences_ , I thought it only right to share part of him with you.”

Harry hums at this, “So, he really liked cleaning?” Harry surmises and Severus actually grins at this.

“Far from it, he liked _flying_. Let’s go outside, I’ll teach you how to ride it.”

The boy follows Severus outside and his birthday only gets better.

A year goes by, comfortably. Harry is doing well in most of his classes – not as well as Hermione, of course – but enough so that he’s confident in most subjects. He and Severus have also become much closer.

Harry was allowed to help out more in the potions lab (mostly menial tasks) and he and Severus took up plotting a garden in their yard. It mostly contains herbs and plants necessary for some basic potions, but Harry convinced Severus to allow some flowers to take root as well.

Their relationship isn’t always flawless, however. Sometimes Severus is a little too distant and doesn’t always pick up on Harry’s emotions or needs. Sometimes Harry is a little too reckless for Severus’ tastes – especially when it comes to flying on his broomstick.

They don’t always mesh together perfectly but at the end of the day, they work to clear up misunderstandings and establish rules and trust. Their definition of family might take a bit more effort to discover but neither of them are lacking when it comes to caring for each other.

Currently, Harry is sitting in his upstairs study reading a fiction novel and Severus is grading homework in the kitchen. 

There is a shoddy mailbox out in the middle of their yard even though there is no driveway leading up to the house. It hasn’t seen any mail in decades but when a letter – stamped with a red seal – flies into it at full speed, it graciously accepts it.

Neither of the occupants in the house take note of how the mailbox slams closed behind the letter as they’re both lost in their own focus. Were it not for the magic that surrounds and protects their house, they might have never noticed – at least, not until Harry’s birthday a week later.

However, when they both convene for dinner that night, the green light floating near their door alerts them that they need to investigate. They both look at the light with confusion, dinner long forgotten, until Harry speaks up, “What _is_ it?”

Severus is just as confused. This is understandable. Despite being the one who set up the wards, he has no experience with something as simple as a letter in a mailbox. If anyone needed to get in contact with him, they would commonly send an owl his way or floo call him.

“I’m not quite sure,” Severus responds. Harry can see that he’s frustrated that he has to answer in such a way but doesn’t mention it.

Harry wonders if he should attempt to touch it, but he’s positive that Severus will pull him back the second he even tries. Severus’ brow is furrowed and staring at the green light. He cautiously reaches out, Harry thinks he might touch it for a second, but then he opens the door and the light zooms out.

In a flurry of robes and legs, Severus strides after it. Harry is quick to follow. The light takes them all the way past the grass and to the mailbox in their yard. The paint has long chipped away and the metal is all rusted over. The main stand is slightly broken – so that the mailbox is leaning to the right – but it is standing proud, nonetheless.

The boy has always stayed away from the contraption, lest he accidentally broke it, and Severus probably never even noticed its presence. Harry is the one who reach out first. He opens the box and it lets out a wailing creak. Inside is a letter on yellowed paper. Harry pulls it out gingerly and when he turns it up to see that it’s addressed to him (in the _Leftmost Bedroom on the Second Floor_ ) he realizes what it is.

He looks up at Severus – displaying the letter in all of its glory – and beams. Severus manages to smile back and they head inside to open it.

This one night, Severus lets his magic do most of the prep work for cooking, as he and Harry open the letter. It’s what they both expected but that doesn’t take away from the experience. Harry is to send his response back by owl before his birthday which means they’ll have to summon one – an easy enough feat.

Once Harry has sufficiently shown off his Hogwarts letter to Severus, the man goes back to do the actual cooking part of dinner and Harry is off to talk to Draco Malfoy. The other boy is the only friend he has in the magical world and _he_ received his Hogwarts letter over a month ago!

Their friendship had been rocky in the beginning. Harry wanted someone to relate to and even fly with but Draco wanted someone to gripe about Muggles and ‘Mudbloods’ with. Draco was focused on himself and his place in the world whereas Harry tended to direct his attention to people he cared about.

Considering he had quite a few Muggle friends and his mother was a Muggleborn, he refused to put up with Draco’s insolence. The first time he met Draco, the other boy was quick to bring up his scorn and Harry departed that conversation quickly in favor of talking with Severus and the Malfoys – as strained as the conversation was.

At the end of the night, Draco demanded to know why Harry had turned down his companionship. He made sure to respond concisely and Draco had been shocked.

After that first impression, harry was satisfied to never interact with the youngest Malfoy ever again but Draco was more determined than that. He pestered harry by Owl and they started a correspondence that included Harry trying to explain Draco’s warped thinking. Their friendship only started after Draco apologized and assured him that he would try and do better.

From then on, it wasn’t rare at all for Harry to visit, with Severus’ permission and apparation, to visit his friend to go flying or reading in the Malfoy’s massive library. Sometimes they would just lay on the ground in Draco’s plush room and talk about everything in their life. They would dine on snacks brought by House Elves and whinge about their struggles.

Most of their communication happened through a two-way compact mirror that Draco had gifted him.

Harry still wasn’t comfortable with using the floo network and he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be. The first time he’d attempted, his whole body froze up and it became really hard to breathe. Severus had to hold him while he coughed up smoke that wasn’t in his lungs. The next day, Draco owled the compact over.

Harry rushed up to his room and dug the compact out from underneath his pillow. He opens it up to peer in and calls out Draco’s name. The blonde’s face peeks out in no time at all and – from what Harry can see – he’s sitting in the library, “Harry! Did you get your letter?”

“I did! It ended up in our mailbox,” he said with a grin. Draco looked a bit confused – he probably didn’t understand what a mailbox was – but smiled back anyway.

“We have to go to Diagon Alley together! We’ve made plans to pick up everything rather soon,” he says in a rather posh manner. Harry resist the urge to snort at his tone of voice.

He nods, regardless, “That would be pretty nice, but I’ll have to ask my dad, okay?”

His friend’s nose turns up at this and his lips tighten into a line. He looks like a child about to throw a temper tantrum like this, “That’s understandable; let him know I need to hear back as soon as possible,” he informs him with a stern look.

Harry’s pretty sure if he told Severus that, he’d lose lab privileges for the rest of the summer. Instead, he just rolls his eyes, “You can tell him yourself, but I don’t think it’ll end up well,” he jokes and Draco turns away with a slight blush.

Harry ends up having to close the compact when Severus calls him back to the table; dinner is ready. After saying goodbye, he’s rushing down the hall and then walking down the stairs to get to the kitchen. The dinner that awaits smells amazing and he quickly takes his seat across the table from Severus, “Hey, dad. Thanks for letting me call Draco,” he says with a grin.

Severus nods, “I understand that this is a very important moment for you to share with your friend,” he states plainly.

Before Harry can dig in and start eating, Severus says something else, “And I wanted to tell you that, as you are going to be starting Hogwarts this year, I will be taking up Dumbledore’s proposition of becoming head of the Slytherin house this year. So don’t you dare pull any mischief while I’m nearby,” he says with narrow eyes.

The boy simply laughs and congratulates Severus who gives him a soft smile.

As he digs into his food, he thinks about how he began to truly _live_ because of an odd coincidence when he bumped into Severus. Now, he would begin his true emergence into the wizarding rule with the man behind his side. He’s not sure what life was like before the orphanage, but he’s positive he didn’t have any who would support him as much as his dad does.


	2. A Force to be Reckoned With

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione figures out she's a witch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one goes out to Just_A_Hinny_Shipping_Metamorphmagus who wrote, "I want to see his reaction to seeing Hermione at school... imagine dat."  
> I was inspired, but maybe not in the way you were implying haha.   
> Jesi~

Force to be Reckoned With

Hermione chewed on the end of her pencil. She knew it was a bad habit, but she couldn’t help it. Harry sat across from her, blissfully unaware of the inner turmoil going through the girl’s brain. Tyler was tapping away on his game next to Harry.

She and Harry were usually very open with each other. Hermione had been the first one to accept Harry – though she’d known him as Jamie at the time – and the other boy had embraced all that she was without hesitation. She’d been overjoyed to be met with someone who enjoyed reading as much as she did (even if Harry tended to prefer fiction – especially fantasy) and immediately shared her favorite library spots.

Their friendship had grown quickly and in no time at all, they’d been hanging out at the library and occasionally Harry would come over for dinner. His father, Severus Snape, came along as well but he was even more awkward than Harry and didn’t seem to know how to talk to her parents.

Harry was her _best friend_ which is why it hurt her so much to have to lie to him. Because Hermione had a secret that he wouldn’t ever get to know. She could only hope that they wouldn’t drift apart because of it.

Just a few months ago, around her birthday, the Granger’s had a visitor.

Professor McGonagall came to visit them from a school for witches and wizards and told the family that Hermione was capable of _magic_. It certainly explained some of the rare occurrences of extraordinary events that had happened to her, but it also set her apart from her peers.

Come September, she wouldn’t be at school with Harry anymore. No, she’d be in _Scotland_. Hermione was excited, of course, but she was also terrified. She’d be behind her peers for once in her life, as she knew nothing about magic, and she would have no friends.

The concept of a fresh start terrified her.

Even though she had been the one to approach Harry, that was only because he made it easy by reading one of her favorite books during lunch. At Hogwarts, she’d be alone all again. She thought back to when she was eight and had no friends. All she’d done was homework, reading, and spending time with her family.

It wasn’t much different from what she’d done with Harry except that she had someone to share it all with. Then when Tyler and the rest came along, they started going to parks and other attractions and she’d discovered more about Hampstead than ever before. Hermione had severe doubts that she’d have that much fun when she was at Hogwarts.

She harshly puts her pencil down on the table and frowns, “Harry, what are you doing for schooling next year?”

Her friend puts down his book and peers at her through his glasses. Tyler also looked up – managing to pull himself away from his Game Boy.

“I’m probably going to the school Severus teaches at, it’s a bit far from here,” he says, looking a bit guilty. Hermione thinks about Harry’s previous complaints about his father’s new schedule since working at the school – he’d never mentioned anything about a long commute, “Are you going somewhere else as well?”

Hermione nods and looks away, “Yeah, it was a bit of a sudden decision. It’s a boarding school,” is all she says.

Tyler groans loudly and puts his head on the desk – Hermione is quick to shush him before the librarian can come over and reprimand him – and he lowers his tone, “I can’t believe you both are leaving; who am I going to study with?”

Harry laughs a bit, all while staying mindful of their location, before putting a gentle hand on his friend’s shoulder, “Don’t worry I’ll be sure to write you any homework answers you need,” he jokes and Tyler turns a bit red.

“Harry,” he draws out, “If you’re going to write me, at least make sure it’s interesting! And if you dare mention chemistry, I promise that I won’t write you back,” Tyler says with a gleam in his eyes and a badly suppressed grin.

The brown-haired boy relents and removes his hand, “You’ll be sure to write as well, right, Hermione?” Harry asks.

“If I can find a mailbox, it’ll be the first thing I do,” she promises. But, inside, she feels a twist that it might not even be possible for her to do such a thing. While Harry and Tyler will be able to remain in contact, she’ll be isolated in a whole other world. She smiles despite her worries and hopes they don’t pick up on it.

Maybe all of this was just the cost of having magic.

The conversation quickly moves on and Tyler starts teaching Harry about the game he’s playing. Harry doesn’t seem to totally get it, but he nods along at the right points and has a truly genuine smile on his face – as if he’s just happy to be there.

Hermione soaks in the moment before moving on.

She looks down at her book once – they’re going to be reading it in English class next week – before deciding to read something different, “I’m going to go browse for a second,” she says before standing up and leaving.

Once she’s looking away from the table, she can see two teenage girls, at the end of the aisle, whispering in hushed voices. They both have a mean glint in their eyes and cruel smiles. They’re objectively pretty but Hermione’s gut twists at the sight of them.

She doesn’t have to talk to them to know that they’re staring at Harry’s scar. Hermione will admit that before she and Harry were proper friends, she’d been a bit transfixed and unnerved by it. The scar – spanning over more than a quarter of his face – had set off most of their classmates from befriending him, after all.

Even now, sometimes her eyes lingered on it a bit too long and the way the tight skin remained unmoved when he grinned or how the area around his eye stayed still despite any array of emotions. But she never gave him a _mean_ _glare_ and she worked to not focus on it. A little bit before his tenth birthday, Harry had started a treatment that lightened and softened the scar tissue, but it was a slow-going process.

The two girls were showing their true natures by being unable to look past it and seeing it as something ‘gross’ when it was anything but. They weren’t the first to do so but it always made Hermione angry. His scar showed that he’d survived. She had no doubt that they would not have as much strength as he did were they put in any situation remotely similar.

She tried to just walk past them to visit the aisle she was looking for but they walked after her once she turned the corner, “How can you be friends with him?” one of them asked with a wicked grin. She probably expected Hermione to say something about it being an act of charity or deny the ‘accusation’ completely.

Hermione turns around with a glare that she hopes could freeze hell itself, “Because unlike you, he’s a good person. You’re just bitter that all you’ll ever be capable of is making vapid insults and friendships based on cruelty while he has actual friends and a generous nature!” she harshly whispered at them.

The two teenagers froze for a second before exchanging a look. One of them laughed just a bit but it sounded strained. Hermione considered her work done and moved further down the library. She didn’t think her words would truly have a lasting effect – some people simply wouldn’t learn from the truth – but she was glad to have defended her friend.

After successfully tracking down what seemed to be a promising book, she heads back to the table and sees Harry and Tyler still talking about the Game Boy. Tyler had tried to talk to her about it once before, but her lack of interest made it hard for them to have a sincere conversation about the topic.

She takes her seat from across the table and starts to read. Hermione has just barely finished by the time Tyler’s mum comes to fetch him. That means that she and Harry will have to go soon. Harry’s father comes to get him on the dot of the hour while Hermione’s parent come just a few minutes later because of their commute.

The girl considers continuing her book before deciding against it. She’ll have all night to read it after she completes the last assignment she has (it’s due next week, but she sees no point in letting it hang over her head). However, the second she puts down her book, Harry strikes, “It’s pretty interesting that we’ll both be going to different schools, huh?” he asks casually but Hermione knows exactly where this is going.

Harry, despite how emotional he could get sometimes (mostly about things concerning his friends), had quite a way with finding out what he wanted to know. He’d picked up some rather subtle ways of beginning conversations instead of simply asking what he truly wanted to know. Hermione had only recently started to notice that he’d begun to do it. She wondered if it had anything to do with his new friend: Draco.

“Mhmm,” she barely agrees, and he narrows his eyes.

“Can I tell you something?” he asks, looking a bit worried, and Hermione drops all suspicion. Maybe she’d been mistaken. She urges him to go on and he pulls at his uniform blazer sleeve, “I’ve actually been a bit nervous about switching schools,” he lets out in one breath.

Hermione leans in and makes eye contact with him, “Why? You’ll be sure to make friends and do well,” she states because it’s _true_. It had taken him a bit to open up to the class and for them to accept him, but he’d been capable of bringing friends into their group where she’d failed.

“Maybe,” he says noncommittally, “It’s just, with Severus as a teacher, what if they don’t want to?”

The girl thought on this a bit. There was a girl in their class – Stephanie – and her mom was the headmaster at their school. Sometimes people were a bit nervous to tell her things, but it didn’t stop them from being friendly with her. She brought that up and Harry shifted in his chair, “Am I being stupid to be worrying about these things?”

“What? No way, it’s totally normal!” she insisted.

Harry squinted at her like he didn’t believe what she was saying, “Do _you_ worry about it? You’re the only other person I know making such a big shift.”

Jumping on a chance to comfort her friend, she said, “I suppose I have. I suspect I won’t really fit in or know how to make friends.”

“Why is that? We only became friends because _you_ approached _me_.”

Hermione looks down at her shut book, “Because I knew we’d have the same interests, roughly.”

As soon as she said that, Harry’s eyebrows rose – one of them rose higher and more prominently than the other because of the scar – and his mouth morphed into a grin, “Then you should have a fine time making friends. You can’t be the only one at your new school that likes books and learning! I’m glad we figured this out,” he said cheerily.

Harry had done it again and had outmaneuvered her in the argument, “How are you so clever,” she paused, “sometimes,” she added on, thinking about that time he’d gotten confused about the nearby geography (he’d lived here for a year and still didn’t know it!).

“What do you mean?” he asked, feigning innocence.

Before Hermione could explain exactly what he’d done and how there was no way he didn’t know about it. A looming figure in a black jacket walked over to them. It was Harry’s father, “Harry, are you ready to go?”

Her friend perked up with a smile and gathered all of his stuff into his messenger bag, “Definitely. I’ll see you at school tomorrow, okay, Hermione?”

She nodded and began to pack up her own stuff (in a much neater manner) and made sure to hold aside the book she’d just picked up. Before Harry left, he made sure to hug her, “Thank you, Hermione,” he whispered.

Hermione didn’t get a chance to ask what he was thanking her for before the father and son were taking off – Harry was excitedly telling the man about his day. He received patient listening in response.

The girl took her time checking out her new book and brought it outside before sitting down on the steps in front of the library. Her parents would be here soon, and she had a lot she wanted to talk to them about.

As she looked down at her fully packed trunk, making sure she had everything she needed, Hermione took a few deep breaths. She would be leaving today, and then she would be gone until _Christmas_. She’s never been gone from home for that long.

Reaching into her trunk, her fingers grab hold of the picture book she was bringing along. It was small and full of polaroid photos from the summer. She, Harry, Tyler, and the rest had spent almost every day together hanging out.

Harry had even stayed at Tyler’s house for a whole week so that they could capitalize on the long days. She flipped to a random photo and smiled when she saw it.

In the photo, Harry was up at the top of a tree with a slightly wobbly smile on his face. Tyler was holding his arms out like he was ready to catch him. After she’d taken the photo, Harry had fallen out of the branch and barely managed to catch himself on the branch below. Some old woman had come out of her house and chased them off for being ‘trouble-makers’ after they all made a fuss over their friend falling.

The next photo was just her and Harry. It was a bit blurry as Tyler didn’t have the steadiest hand, but they were both sporting twin smiles and Harry had an arm wrapped around Hermione’s shoulders. Both of them had small sweat droplets on their brows and flushed cheeks. They took this photo right after Hermione beat him at a short race they’d had in the park.

This past summer had been one of the best she’s ever had. She was more determined than ever to not lose contact with her friends – no matter how fascinating the wizard world was or how she might change because of it. She ran through the picture slots until she was at the front and tucked in the addresses she’d gathered from most of her friends. The only friend she didn’t have an address for was Harry.

The boy had promised he’d make sure she got his address once he figured out how it would work best. He hadn’t given her a lot of information about _why_ he couldn’t give her his address and Hermione had begrudgingly accepted that it was ‘complicated;’ though it certainly took a few days of convincing.

Her eyes turned to the stack of books that were packed neatly on the other side of her trunk. She’d barely managed to get through two of them because of all the time she’d spent with her friends – but she’d practiced a spell or two that she found interesting. Hermione really didn’t want to be left behind regarding school work so she considered reading them on the train (of course, the ‘Harry’ in her told her she should use the ride for making friends).

Once she was sure she had packed everything, she closed the trunk and worked to pull it down to the living room.

“Do you need help with that, sweetie?” her dad called out from the kitchen where he was making breakfast.

Hermione shook her head, too focused on lugging the trunk, before she realized he couldn’t see her, “No, I’ve got it. Thanks, dad!” After a few minutes, everything she was taking to Hogwarts was in front of the door. Her brow creased and she turned to look at her living room.

Her mum came out of her room and gave Hermione a big hug, “I’m so proud of you, honey,” she said into her big hair. Hermione blushed before returning the hug in full. Just a year ago, Hermione didn’t think she’d be leaving her house until _college_. Now, she was doing it at eleven years old – though she was almost twelve.

“Thanks, mum,” she responded. She took a deep breath and tried to remember the feeling of this hug – hopefully she could keep it in mind for forever. Her mum was warm and soft and smelled like Earl Grey (which she drank religiously).

Straight black hair cascaded over Hermione’s own and tickled her shoulders as her mum lifted her a bit into the hug, “My little girl, a witch,” she smirked with a glint in her eye. It had taken quite a bit of convincing on Professor McGonagall’s part, but her parents come around after the Professor showed them real magic. After that, they’d been hesitantly excited for Hermione.

Going to Diagon Alley had been a whole new experience for all of them. Hermione still remembered the look on her dad’s face when the wand Mr. Ollivander gave her produced sparks. He’d been so shocked and then he had started to clap, right there in the shop. Hermione’s face had been bright red for the longest time.

Their hug was broken apart when Hermione’s dad called them all over to the kitchen table so they could eat breakfast. Hermione took the time to recount to them all that she’d memorized from the books she _had_ been able to read and they – as confused as they were – did their best to listen attentively all through breakfast.

They finished the meal in a rather normal manner and Hermione and her dad went to wash the dishes. Hermione finished placing the last plate in their dishwasher before leaning into her dad’s side, “What if I don’t make any friends?” she asked, feeling a bit mopey.

Her dad just ruffled her hair (no doubt causing any number of matts for her to detangle) and laughed, “That’s impossible. I’m sure everyone will be charmed by you!” he paused and rinsed out a cup, “Just make sure they’re not _too_ charmed,” he said with a wink.

“Dad,” she whined but found herself giggling, nonetheless. She would miss her dad’s dorky humor. Hermione had no doubt that when she returned for Christmas she’d get a whole lot of it in full force.

In response, he dried his hands and picked her up in a hug. He swung her around once before setting her down, “Hermione,” he said in the same tone, except he said it with a knowing grin, “I can’t believe you’re already leaving the house,” his voice was soft and he had one hand on her back.

Hermione pursed her lips and willed her eyes not to water up, “I’ll be back by Christmas, you don’t have to worry about me,” she ~~lied~~ insisted.

As if he could see into her mind, “I’ll always worry about you; make sure you keep us updated so we don’t have to worry quite as much as we usually do!”

“Are you sure you can deal with an owl, dad?” she asked incredulously. Her father was always strangely nervous around birds despite her mother’s participation in a bird watching club.

He looked off to the ‘distance’ (which was really just the china cabinet) with a steely look in his eyes, “I would deal with a thousand owls for you.”

Hermione was laughing again and they both made their way out of the kitchen. A look at the clock told her that it was 10:15 and she bolted for the door, “We’ve got to go! Or else we’ll be late!”

“Ah yes, we wouldn’t want to be anything but thirty minutes early for the train,” her mum said loftily and Hermione narrowed her eyes, “We’ll be fine, Hermione; King’s Cross is only a twelve minute drive.”

Somehow, Hermione managed to restrain herself from listing off everything that could go wrong on the way to the station and instead bent down to pick up her trunk. Her dad swooped in and grabbed the other end so that they were lifting it together.

Together, they loaded it into the trunk of their blue Astra and then took their respective seats. In the back, Hermione _politely_ encouraged her parents to get on the road faster. There was no way she was going to miss the train after she’d packed and prepared everything!

As they drove to the heart of London, Hermione stared out at the modern world. She’d skimmed one of the books she’d gotten and saw that Hogwarts would be a huge castle. It was the farthest she could get (aesthetically speaking) from Hampstead.

They parked a bit far away and Hermione scowled at the built-in clock on the Astra’s dashboard. She and her parents rushed (as fast as they could go with the trunk) to the platforms until they were lingering in between Platform Nine and Platform Ten. The instructions she’d got had said they needed to go through Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Where that was, she had no clue.

The family stared blankly at the different people coming and going between the two platforms until Hermione spotted what must be an entrance. There was a family and they just walked straight through the wall!

She tugged on her mum’s sleeve, “We have to go through that wall to get to that platform!” she said excitedly. Her parent both gave her slightly skeptical looks, but Hermione tugged them along anyway. Hermione led the way with her back facing the wall and holding onto the trunk while her dad held the other end.

Going through the ‘magic wall’ was what walking through Jello must feel like. She popped out on the other side and her trunk followed her through until both of her parents were there and staring, wide eyed, at the new area. They must all look quite special with how their jaws had all dropped but Hermione was quick to regain her composure – she would have to get used to all of the magic.

Her mum handed her the ticket that had been kept safe in her purse; there were obvious tears in her eyes and Hermione made sure to give her one more tight hug. Her dad joined in and wrapped his arms around the both of them. Hermione felt tears drip down her cheek and buried her head into her mum’s shoulder.

The station – and the train – were quickly filling up and Hermione wanted to get a good seat (what that constituted as, she wasn’t sure, but Hermione would soon find out). Reluctantly, she pulled herself out of the hug and leaned down to pick up her trunk, “Bye mum, bye dad,” she said and hoped that there were no more tears on her face, “I love you and I’ll miss you a bunch!”

“We love you too, Hermione; remember to write us, okay?” her dad called out to remind her. She nodded and headed into the train. She took a deep breath to ground herself and looked around to find somewhere to sit.

Most of the booths had their doors open but each of them had a few students inside. Hermione’s eyes locked on a few students before quickly looking away. She wanted to make friends, but she was so nervous; she wasn’t sure if she could actually approach any of them.

Hermione finally reached a booth with doors that were closed; she didn’t bother looking inside the window before she leaned on it slightly to catch her breath; her trunk was awfully heavy. However, she didn’t succeed in catching anything – especially not her balance – when the doors opened on her and she went tumbling inside, “Oww,” she moaned and tried to shove her trunk off of her. Once the pressure was off her body, she reached up to touch the back of her head which was slightly sore.

“Hermione?” a voice exclaimed very loudly. She turned her glare on whoever had shouted only to stop short when she saw none other than Harry Potter sitting in front of her.

“Harry? What are you doing here?”

The question went unanswered and they just stared at each other for a few seconds, “I’m- you’re- What?” Harry stumbled out looking very shocked with the situation, “I’m a wizard! And you’re a witch! And we’re going to the same school!” he shouted with a bright grin.

He pulled her to her feet and wrapped her up in a warm hug that was more fumbling limbs than anything concrete; she was quick to return it and it became a gesture that filled her heart.

Realization hit: she wouldn’t have to go through this alone.

Next to them, someone cleared their throat and Hermione glanced over – not breaking her hug with Harry – to see a rather posh looking boy who was basically already in his Hogwarts robes. His blonde hair looked like it had been slicked back only for someone – Harry, she surmised – to have mussed it up so that a few strands were in his face.

Now, Hermione broke away and scrunched her nose up at him, “And who are you?” she asked, feeling a bit protective of her best friend.

“I’m _Malfoy_ , Draco Malfoy,” he introduced himself with a bit of a sneer.

She considered him before deciding that they could be friends. Harry had mentioned Draco a few times in the past, but it had mostly been good things (though, apparently, he was a bit spoiled). Hermione held out a hand and he grabbed it to shake it, “I’m Hermione Granger; I hope we can be good friends,” she said pointedly.

“Sit with us, Hermione!” Harry cheered, as if she would go anywhere else, “Draco was just about to go find his other friends, so I’ll help you with your trunk while he does, okay?”

After everything was successfully dealt with, she and Harry sat back in their booth and relaxed a bit. She thought about donning her uniform, but since Harry wasn’t wearing his she decided to put it off until it was really time, “Does this mean that your dad is a wizard, too?”

Harry nodded, “Yeah, both of them! I probably wouldn’t have truly found out about all of this until Severus adopted me; even if I had been playing around with my magic back then,” he said with a smile.

Wow. Hermione wonders how much better prepared she could have been if they both knew they were wizards but shakes that thought out of her head, “I’m so glad that we get to go to school together, Tyler will be so shocked when he finds out!” she exclaims.

“Right?” Harry laughs. He brushes his long hair out of his face and gives her a grin, “We’re in this together, ‘Mione.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she grins back.

Once Draco is back in their booth, the train starts up again and rumbles as it slowly begins on the rails. Hermione has switched seats with Harry so that she’s next to the window to watch the countryside pass by. As the two boys talk in the background, she thinks of all she’ll get the chance to learn and the people she’ll be able to meet – witches and wizards, alike.

Her magic thrums in her veins and anticipation grows within her. Harry’s presence has calmed most of her anxieties, but she knows she’d be prepared for this no matter the circumstances were. Hermione was a witch and she would be a force to be reckoned with.

**Author's Note:**

> [Fanfiction Directory](https://lostintheclouds321.tumblr.com/post/624753968518709248/masterpost-of-fanfiction-lostintheclouds321) I write BNHA and Marvel fanfiction as well :)  
> Jesi~  
> Comments and kudos are appreciated :)


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